


The Family Business

by phantisma



Category: Leverage, Supernatural
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Mental Instability, Past Incest, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:25:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean get a call from someone they've worked, and played, with in the past, but when they meet up with Eliot Spencer in a small town in Kentucky everything they thought they knew changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Family Business

**Author's Note:**

> This is set mid season 7 for Supernatural, picking up somewhere around 7X07 and spanning to just before 7X17. For Leverage, it is between seasons 4 and 5. And yes, it leaves some things unresolved. I will likely come back to it eventually and chase out how the rest of the season would have changed.

It wasn’t every day he got a call from Eliot Spencer asking for a meet up in some hick town in the green-for-miles part of Kentucky. Hell, it wasn’t often he got a call from Eliot Spencer at all. Dean snapped his fingers at Sam and pulled the map out of his hands, tracing a finger south along from where they had just finished up a job. 

“Yeah. We can make that. See you tomorrow.” He hung up and shrugged at Sam. “That was Eliot. He’s got something for us.”

Sam looked surprised. “As in Spencer?”

“Yeah. Finish up. We’ve got a drive.”

“As in the guy who said we were insane and punched you out the first time we met?” Sam snorted and closed his laptop. 

“Hey, he held his own against that werewolf last time.” Dean reminded him, gathering up the newspapers and books spread across the table.

“I remember. He saved your ass.” Sam said as he dropped a twenty on the table to cover their tab.

“Yeah, I remember he fucked yours.” Dean laughed and led the way out to the car.

“Only after he’d worn yours out.” Sam put his bag in the back seat before opening the passenger door. “So, where we going?”

“Kentucky.” Dean started the car and put it in drive. “He wasn’t specific as to the reason, just said he had something for us and he was head for this small town in Kentucky. Asked to meet up.”

“That sounds…ominous.”

Dean just nodded and turned the radio up, pointing them down the road.

 

The town wasn’t the smallest place they’d ever been, big enough to have two bars and a main street that looked like something out of a 1950s sitcom. It was just after dark as Dean parked the car outside the hardware store, about a block from the bar where Eliot was supposed to meet them.

“Wow.” Sam murmured as they got out of the car, his eyes sweeping the street. “It’s like someone forgot to flip the calendar.”

“I’ll say. Kinda creepy.” Dean pulled his jacket closer and gestured toward the bar. Sam nodded and followed.

Country music spilled out the open door of the bar along with the smell of stale beer and peanuts. A couple of locals sat on stools along the bar, a young couple was snuggling in the back booth. Eliot was holding down a tall table near the dart boards and pool tables, three beers already waiting beside a wooden box.

He lifted his in greeting, grinning at them as Dean adjusted himself and moved in. “Hello boys.” Eliot said.

Dean took the stool closest to the wall opposite Eliot who had his own stool up against the wall too. Sam pulled the third to Dean’s side of the table and straddled it a little uneasily. “Wasn’t expecting we’d hear from you again.” Sam said as he took one of the beers.

“Didn’t expect I’d be calling.” Eliot answered. “I was doing a side job for a friend, came across something I figured was more your thing than mine.” His hand fell on the box on the table. It was fairly simple, but for what looked like Enochian symbols carved on the sliding top and a broken wax that had clearly once sealed the box shut.

Dean looked at the box, then up at Eliot. “What is it?”

Eliot took a long sip from his beer. “To be honest, I’m not sure. But, it was pretty damn important for a couple of guys with very black eyes apparently. They would **not** go down. Chased me across half of Georgia before I finally ditched them in a crowd at a mall.”

“Black eyes?” Sam asked, glancing around them.

“Yeah. All black. Crazy fuckers too.”

“Demons.” Sam said with a sigh. “At least we know what to do with them.”

“Demons.” Eliot said the word as if he couldn’t quite buy into the idea.

“Yeah. Demons.” Dean responded. “Anything they were that hot to get their hands on, is something we want to know about.”

Eliot pushed the box toward Dean. “Anything I want to know about?”

Dean chuckled. “Probably not.”

“Fair enough. I still think you’re both crazy, but this is **not** a mess I’m interested in. I need to get back. My team has a job lined up.”

“Right, that team of criminals.” Dean smirked as he said it, looking up as someone came in the door of the bar and someone at the bar called out a greeting. The man was familiar, his shape recalling something Dean couldn’t quite put a finger on, until his head started to turn.

He grabbed Sam’s shoulder and they both stood slowly. Dean was half certain he was seeing things. It wasn’t possible. He knew it wasn’t. They’d burned the body. They’d salted the ashes. 

“Dad?” Eliot was standing now too, staring at the same man.

“Wait, what?” Dean turned to Eliot. Eliot took a step toward the man who was retreating out of the bar. “Did you say—“

“Dad.” Sam finished for him. “Dean…Dean, that was…that was Dad.”

“It couldn’t be.” Dean said, grabbing the box and pushing Sam after him. 

Eliot grabbed his arm. “What are you talking about?”

“Who was that man?” Dean asked in return.

“My father.” Eliot said, frowning at him. “Why?”

Sam was pulling on him. “Because he looks an awful lot like our father. Only, our father is dead.”

Sam was out the door before Dean could stop him. Dean followed with Eliot on his heels. A pickup truck squealed away from the curb where Sam was coming to a stop. He turned to look at Dean, his face filled with question. “It couldn’t be, right?”

Dean nodded. “Couldn’t be.”

“Because he’s dead.” Sam added, both of them staring after the truck.

“Burned, salted. Dead.” Dean agreed, shaking his head. “But Sam…”

“I know.”

Dean turned to Eliot. “You said he was your father?”

Eliot nodded. “That’s why I’m here. I haven’t been home in…a while. Thought it was time.”

“He didn’t seem overjoyed to see you.” Sam observed. “Or maybe us.”

“No. I’m pretty sure that was all about me.” Eliot said with a sigh. “He…we didn’t part on the best of terms.” He seemed to sag a little. “I was hoping…Nevermind. You guys got what you came for. I have some family business to attend.”

“Not so fast.” Dean said, handing the box to Sam. “This is just a little too weird. We’re not going anywhere. Not until we’ve figured this out.”

“Well, I know where he lives.” Eliot pointed to his truck parked across the street.

“We’ll follow.” Dean responded, pointing to the Impala up the block.

Ten minutes later they parked in front of a ranch style farm house set back a bit from the road. Two horses grazed in a corral beside the house and Eliot was already nearly to the door when Sam and Dean got out of the car.

The house door burst open and a woman came flying at Eliot, slapping his face hard enough to turn his head and stop him in his tracks. “HOW DARE YOU?”

Dean stepped up behind Eliot as he rubbed his jaw. “Hello Mars, good to see you too.”

“You just fucking show up after how many years? And you don’t even have the decency to come here first? You go to the goddamn bar?” She slapped him again, harder this time. On her third attempt, Eliot caught her hand. 

“Stop. You’re pissed, I get it.”

“No, Eliot. I was pissed when you left. When you didn’t come back. This? This is so far beyond pissed--“

“Mary.” 

That gruff voice brought Dean’s attention from the beauty with the temper to the door. Sam’s hand squeezed his shoulder and Dean knew. He just knew. 

It was his turn to walk away. Just walk away. 

“Dean.”

He shook his head. “No Sam. No.”

“Dean.” That wasn’t Sam. Dean stopped.

A hundred scenarios ran through his head, a hundred ways this was just a trick. A hundred more that it could be real. “No.” Dean turned around, fury pumping through him. “No. You’re dead. You—We burned your body. You fucking left us to clean up your fucking mess. And we fucking burned your body, salted the ashes. You don’t get to just….just be alive.”

“Dean.” Sam bridged the distance between Dean and this man with their father’s face, one hand reaching out to Dean. “We should…you know….make sure?”

The man standing there looking like John Winchester chuckled. “I’m me, Sam.”

Dean had his ever present flask of holy water out of his pocket and was splashing it in his face before anyone else could even move. 

“You can’t be serious.” Eliot said as his father spit out holy water and Sam produced a silver knife.

“Deadly.” Dean said, nodding to Sam.

Calmly, the man in question held out his hand to Sam, palm up, wincing as Sam cut into the meaty part of his hand.

“Satisfied?”

Dean shook his head. “Not even a little bit.”

He nodded. “I understand. It’s a very long story. Seeing as you found me…and so far none of us is dead, I guess I owe you the whole story.”

He turned, clamping a hand over the bleeding cut and Dean watched him walk into the house without looking back. Sam was still shaking his head and Eliot was staring at them both.

“What just happened?”

“I’ll let you know once I figure it out.” Dean answered, moving between Eliot and Sam and into the house.

The house was warm, the windows open to the night air. Dean stood in a living room that looked unreal, the last place he would expect to find his father...and yet, as John emerged from the hallway, taping down some gauze over the knife wound, Dean had to admit, he looked like he belonged.

“I don’t understand.” Dean found himself saying as Eliot and Sam joined them. 

“Sit.” John gestured toward the couch. The woman appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, a six pack of beer in her hand. She glowered at Eliot as she handed him one, but softened a little as she gave one to Sam and almost smiled as she handed one to Dean. “Mary, go call your sister. Get her over here.”

Dean cleared his throat as she nodded and left the room. “Mary?”

His father nodded. “Yes. Mary.” He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “I don’t know where to start.”

“How about the part where you made some fucking deal with a demon to save my life?” Dean asked, sipping on his beer.

“I found you laying dead on the floor of that hospital room.” Sam said. “We burned the body.”

John nodded. “Deal, yes. Dead, not really.” He took a big hit off his beer. “Eliot, this must be…”

Eliot held up his hand. “I’ve known these two for over a year. Strange shit happens when they’re around.”

John smiled a little, nodding. “Of course, just you two being here breaks the deal, so we can likely expect some of that strange shit any minute.”

“Demon’s dead.” Dean said, pulling his father’s attention back to him. 

“He is?”

“Dean shot him with the Colt.” Sam supplied, still looking a little wide eyed.

Dean could feel the pride rolling off his father, could feel his eyes. It made him uncomfortable. “Couldn’t have done it without Sam.” He cleared his throat. “Okay, so, that bastard’s dead and you’re not.”

John nodded. “Yeah. So, I guess killing me was too easy, or something.” He crossed to the chair and sat, setting his beer on the table beside him. “I had to agree to quit hunting and to never have contact with you boys again.”

“That doesn’t explain…” Dean gestured at Eliot.

“I agreed to the deal to save Dean’s life.” John said, looking at Eliot now. “The demon wasn’t content just sending me away. He sent me back...back to before you boys were born.”

“What?” Dean frowned at him. “What? And you just...what, walked away?”

“No, I didn’t just walk away.” 

Mary reappeared, finishing off the last beer she’d kept for herself. “Should I cook?”

Eliot snorted and shook his head. “Not unless you really want me dead.”

She slapped his shoulder, but it was more playful than the slaps on the porch had been. “I can cook.”

“She’s actually gotten pretty good.” John said with a smirk. She slapped at him too. “How about some burgers? Get the grill going?” She nodded and headed back toward the kitchen.

Dean finished his beer, uncomfortable with the whole domestic feeling, with his father and these people…

“Wait.” Sam said suddenly. “You quit hunting?”

John nodded. “Yes, Sam. I did.”

“You **quit** hunting? **You** quit hunting.”

John chuckled. “It wasn’t easy. Especially not at first. Once I figured out what happened, I wanted nothing more than to stop...all of it. Save your mother. But the consequences were too high. If I did anything to interfere, not only would I die, but you boys with me. Both of you. Your souls sent to hell.”

“So you found yourself another family you could have a normal life with while Sam and I were out there dying for your damn war?” Fury bubbled under his skin and was going to erupt out of him if this didn’t start making sense.

John rubbed his knee, but didn’t look up. “For the first two years I haunted Lawrence. I watched your mother and...well, me...but it was killing me. And when I realized she had to be pregnant with you, I had to leave. I knew I couldn’t be there, couldn’t watch it happen and not interfere.” 

There were tears in his eyes as he looked up. Dean didn’t expect that. Didn’t want to see it. He turned away, looking at Sam instead.

“I met Eliot’s mother at a truckstop in Texas. She was trying to get home to Kentucky. I was….looking for some way to be useful. We got here, her old man gave me a job...next thing I know Eliot was born. We got married. I still paid attention, went places I knew you’d be.”

Sam stood abruptly, walking toward the front door. Dean waved his father down when he would have followed. “Sam?” 

He was pacing around the front yard. He didn’t stop until Dean grabbed his elbow. “Sam. Stop.”

“He’s our _brother_ , Dean.” Sam said. “Our damn brother….and we….” He shook his head, pulling away and returning to pacing.

“All of this, and **that** is what you’re stuck on?” Dean asked. He could feel Eliot behind him and he knew they’d have to face it eventually.

A car came to a stop on the street and in just a few seconds there were two small kids racing past them and launching themselves at Eliot, both of them talking excitedly.

Eliot laughed and spun them around before putting them down. They both ran for the door screaming “Grandpa!” as a woman with short, dark hair moved slowly toward them, her stomach swollen with the obvious signs of another on the way.

“Emma.” Eliot pulled her into a hug, one hand dipping to cup her stomach. “You look good.”

“I look fat.” Emma countered. “You were supposed to tell me you were coming so I could soften him up for you.”

“He brought us instead.” Dean said, sticking his hand out. “I’m Dean, this is my brother Sam.”

“It’s a long story, Em.” Eliot gestured inside with his head. “Dad’s...well, he’s sort of….”

Dean clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder and turned him back toward the house. “He was just telling us the story of how he met your mother.” 

John was still in his chair, but he had a lap full of blond haired kids. The boy was maybe six, with freckles across his face and two missing teeth. The girl was smaller, maybe four, her hair in pigtails. Both of them wore pajamas. Emma crossed to John and kissed the top of his head. “I was trying to put them to bed, but they overheard me telling Mark I was coming and they were in the car before I was.”

“Grandpa time trumps bed time.” Mary said, hugging her sister.

His sister too, Dean amended. As if reading his mind, John cleared his throat. “So, Emma and Mary, this is Sam and Dean. The boys I had with my first wife. Sam, Dean, these are your sisters, Mary and Emma. And this is your nephew Isaac and your niece Ruthie.”

“I gotta be honest.” Dean said. “I don’t even know how to react to this.”

Emma laughed, the sound light and breaking some of the tension. “Here I was expecting to welcome my prodigal brother home, and instead I get three.”

“I…” Sam shook his head. “You’ll forgive me….I’m still trying to figure out how you just….walked away and lived a normal life while we were out there...with everything we went through...hell...and did you know we both died?”

“Several times.” Dean said, trying to derail his brother. “Maybe that’s a better conversation for another time.”

“No. You know what? I can’t….” Sam started for the door, but this time it was Eliot that stopped him.

“Sam, we’re all a little freaked out here.”

“Emma, I think the men need some more time to talk. Come help me with some food?” Mary said, her eyes on Dean and seeming to demand an explanation when things had settled. He nodded his thanks as Mary twined her arm through her sister’s and drew her away.

“Twins.” John said suddenly. He smiled and kissed each of the kids’ heads. “You know I think your aunt Mary brought home some new toys. Why don’t you two go find them.” 

They tore off in the opposite direction that the women had gone and John stood up, crossing to Sam. He turned Sam to face him. “I checked in on you boys from time to time. When you were at Stanford...Jessica’s funeral. I wanted to be there. I wanted you to know.”

Sam sagged a little and John pulled him into a hug. “We missed you.” Sam said into his father’s shoulder. “What we’ve seen...done...Dad…”

“I know, son, I know.”

“No, Dad. You don’t.” Dean corrected, moving closer to hug him too. “But I understand. Sort of.”

“I’m glad you do.” Eliot groused. “I barely believed you about the werewolves and that’s after I saw them. This?” He shook his head. “And you...I can’t believe the shit you gave me about wanting to get out of here, see the world.”

John let go of Dean and grabbed Eliot, pulling him in to hug too, though it was obvious Eliot wasn’t as receptive. “I would think you’d understand it now. I mean...with everything you know is out there now.”

Eliot frowned as if that hadn’t even crossed his mind. “What? That’s what it was about? You do know I can handle myself, right?”

“No, I get it.” Sam said. “He didn’t want you to have to...he knew what we would go through, how it would break us. He wanted something better for you. Didn’t want you to know about that evil.”

“There’s evil in the world has nothing to do with that crap.” Eliot said.

John nodded. “Yes, there is.”

“And now he knows anyway.” Dean added. “Really, he’s a Winchester. You think he was going to get through this life without it touching him in some way?”

“A father can hope.”

“Not to interrupt the boys bonding time, but burgers are ready.” Emma called from somewhere Dean couldn’t see.

Mary came through and into the kitchen. “Eliot, make yourself useful. Get in here.”

Eliot followed, leaving Sam and Dean alone with their father. “We have a lot to discuss.” Sam said, shifting uncomfortably.

“Stories to tell.” John responded, nodding. “I...I thought I’d never see you boys again.” He pulled them both in to hug. “Come on, sit down, have some food. The rest can wait.”

 

“You’re quiet.” Dean said, pulling Sam up out of his thoughts. It was nearly midnight and they were sitting in the car outside a motel. Dean turned the engine off.

“I…” Sam shook his head. The whole thing was surreal. “How...and why...and how?” 

“I don’t know, Sam. But I say we get a room, get some sleep, come at it fresh in the morning.”

Sam nodded and watched his brother get out of the car. If it was just the fact that his father was alive, Sam might be able to wrap his head around it. The damn yellow eyed demon did love to torment his family...and nothing would torment John Winchester more than knowing what would happen and being unable to stop it. 

But that wasn’t all of it. 

He had married again. Had kids. Eliot. Who he and Dean had done some...very unbrotherly things with. Sam shook his head. He knew he needed to get past that. Put it behind them. 

It wasn’t like he and Dean were innocents before Eliot or anything. They’d shared a bed with others, both male and female. They didn’t touch each other, not sexually...well, there was that one time when they were both really drunk with that red head in Texas that they’d kissed...but he didn’t think Dean even remembered that.

But Eliot...that hadn’t been just an after hunt, adrenaline fueled one night stand. It had gone on for two days, until none of the three of them could move. And now, to find out the man was related….not just related...Eliot was their brother.

The door opened and Dean slid in, putting the key on Sam’s knee. He started the car and moved them toward the number 7 door. “Get the door, I’ll get the bags.”

Sam climbed out of the car and got their bags from the back seat, following Dean into the room. It was pretty standard cheap hotel, with an ugly gold carpeting that looked like something out of a seventies sitcom. He dumped his bag on one bed and tossed Dean’s onto the other one.

“Seriously, stop.” Dean said. “We’ll figure it out.”

“You’re right.” Sam said, rubbing both hands over his face. “I’m going to grab a shower.”

He left Dean getting undressed and went to stand under the meager spray of the shower, hoping it would wash away the sick feeling in his stomach that something just wasn’t right. He waited until he was fairly sure his brother had gone to sleep before he got out, wrapping a towel around himself and easing his way out of the bathroom.

He pulled his laptop out of his bag and went to the small table in the corner of the room. He’d done a brief background check on Eliot the first time they’d met, east of Seattle when they’d been hunting a vampire nest. He knew the man was wanted, former special ops...though that was mostly speculation due to the missing records. It was time to find out more.

 

“Did you sleep at all?” Dean’s voice grumbled and Sam looked up. 

Sunlight was starting to seep in around the curtains. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “No.”

“Did you at least find something or is the pissy face because you didn’t” Dean sat up, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Well, I found John Spencer, sort of. First I can find of him is 1975. In December he bought a bus ticket from Scranton, Ohio to Lawrence, Kansas. Next I find is a police report, seems he was questioned by Lawrence police about a peeping tom lurking around a residential neighborhood in Lawrence. That was 1978. I’ve got no birth records, no credit records, no driver’s license. Nothing up to 1979, when a John Spencer applied for a driver’s license in Kentucky. After that there’s an application for a marriage license.”

“So he’s telling the truth.”

“Seems like.” Sam wasn’t sure why that didn’t make him feel any better. “Eliot was born on July 30, 1979. Dad and Elizabeth Handly married a month later. Mary and Emma were born on October 10, 1983.”

Dean stretched as he stood, headed for the bathroom. “Which lines up with everything he said last night.”

“Elizabeth died in ‘92 after a brief battle with breast cancer. Her father died that same year, leaving Dad the hardware store.”

Dean snorted. “I can’t see Dad running a hardware store. Go get some coffee. I’m going to shower.”

Sam pushed himself up out of the chair, stretching. The towel he was still wearing after his shower fell to the floor and he stepped clear to pull clean underwear out of his bag. He finished getting dressed and grabbed the room key, heading out to find coffee at the cafe across the street from the hotel.

“Two large coffees, to go, please.” Sam responded, hoping the young woman would take the hint.

He dropped the money on the counter and took the cups the waitress set in front of him. 

He knew he was on edge. His sanity was a precarious walk on a good day, the hallucinations only barely held in check, the voice of Lucifer in his head sometimes overwhelming. Somehow, despite Dean’s own issues, he was managing to keep Sam grounded, if only just. And they had Leviathans to find and figure out how to kill. 

The fact that he’d just found out his father was alive, that he had another brother and sisters, that he was an uncle just pushed everything up a notch. And that was before he gave any thought to the idea that he’d has sex with the man he now knew was his brother.

_”And you liked it, Sammy. Want to do it again, don’t you?”_

Sam ignored the hallucination, though he knew it would only lead to more torment. 

He got back to the hotel as Dean was sitting down on the bed with the box they’d gotten from Eliot the night before at the bar. Sam handed off the cup of coffee. Dean nodded in thanks, taking a sip before setting the cup down and rubbing his hands together. 

“You gonna open it?” Sam asked, backing away.

“Got a better idea?” Dean asked, looking up.

“I just think maybe we have enough to worry about.”

“Still got a job to do, Sammy.” Dean slid the lid off the box and Sam felt like someone was trying to pull his stomach out of his body through his navel.

_Oh, that’s fun._ Sam ignored the suddenly grinning hallucination as he doubled over.

“Dean.”

“Shit, Sam.” He didn’t hear the box close, but he felt it when it did. Dean’s hands found him, guided him to the bed. “What happened?”

Sam inhaled and tried to focus on the feeling of Dean’s hands, on the pain still lingering in his stomach and not on the sound of Lucifer laughing at him. “I don’t know.” He pressed against the scar on his hand, pushing the delusion away. “I’m okay.”

Dean was squatting beside him. “Bullshit. What was that?”

Sam didn’t know, but his insides were shaking. “What was in the box?”

Dean stood and went back to the box. “I didn’t get a good look.”

“Dean.” Sam stood slowly, testing his strength. “Just tell me.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “It….looked like a heart.”

Sam frowned at him. “A what?”

“A human heart.”

Sam frowned harder. “I don’t….why would that…”

_Because it’s mine, Sam._ Sam physically turned so his back was to the delusion, his fingers finding the scar on his hand and pushing down until the pain pushed the presence away. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Dean asked, squinting at him.

“Yeah, fine. You know, as much as I can be.”

Dean’s hand grabbed his shoulder. “I need you to be straight up with me here Sam. You promised to tell me if it was too much.”

Sam forced a smile. “It isn’t, okay? I’m fine. We should figure out what this thing is with Dad, and get back to looking for a way to kill the Leviathans.”

“I think this thing with Dad is just what Dad says it is, Sammy. I think he made a deal, got unexpectedly shuffled back in time, and…”

“And quit hunting, got married and had a family?” Sam asked, going back to his computer. “Why isn’t he older? I mean...if he went back to 1975 and lived the last...what...30 years….why doesn’t he look like he’s over 70? He barely looks older than when he was supposed to have died.” Sam sat, shaking his head. “And if he didn’t die, who did we burn?”

“I don’t know, Sam.” Dean lifted his coffee off the nightstand and sipped it. “What was the point of any of it?” He sat on the end of his bed. “I mean, I always assumed old yellow eyes killed Dad to try to break him….the way he did me. I was just his second choice.”

“If Dad wasn’t in hell...then that was all a lie too.” Sam said. “So what did he gain?”

“Tormenting Dad.” Dean offered, sitting back against the headboard. “Left us without him...which likely led to any number of the stupid decisions we made that led us toward what happened.”

“So, it was all part of his end game?” Sam shook his head. “Doesn’t feel right.”

“On our end, sure. I just don’t get what Azazel got out of keeping Dad alive.”

“Maybe he couldn’t kill him?” Sam said. “He was Michael’s vessel after all.”

Dean frowned at him. “You mean... when we went back to stop Anna, and he let Michael in?” 

“Maybe we changed something. Maybe once a body has been a host to an archangel, hell can’t touch it?” Sam suggested. 

“So, his threat to haul Dad down to the pit if he tried to contact us or interfere with us was a bluff?”

“Not completely.” Sam said. “I mean, we were part of that too. He could have still taken us.”

“This is giving me a headache.” Dean grabbed the box and headed for the door.

“Wait...what are you going to do with it?”

“For now, I’m hiding it in the lockbox in the trunk. I’ll call Bobby. Have him do some digging.”

“And what about us? What are we going to do?” Sam asked as Dean opened the door.

“Well, Emma did invite us to her place for the family barbeque.” Dean responded, smirking. “Every Sunday at her place.”

“Right. Because that’s what normal families do.”

 

“Is this...normal?” Eliot asked as Dean sat next to him on the surprisingly comfortable wicker patio furniture.

“Which part exactly?” Dean asked, watching Sam make uncomfortable small talk with Emma’s husband, Wayne.

“Time travel, dead fathers who aren’t dead…”

Dean inhaled and let it out slowly. “No, that part is definitely not normal. The making a deal with a demon part? That, unfortunately is far too familiar.” Their father joined Sam and Wayne and the kids came running past. “What about…” Dean waved his hand at the people around them. “Is this what life was when you were younger?”

Eliot snorted and leaned back. “He’s different. Not sure if it’s you two showing up or age or what. We actually talked this morning. The last time I was home the only talking he did was barking orders.”

They both sipped at their beer, watching the assembled family. 

“Can I ask where you got the box?” Dean asked softly, his eyes tracking Sam.

“Told you, was working a job in Georgia.”

Dean shook his head. “No, I need more than that. Whatever is in that box has some serious juice. I need to know where it came from.”

“It was in a shipment I was sent to retrieve. Only the guy who hired me ended up dead, and I got left holding a lot of shit I didn’t need or want. That was the last of it.”

“What kind of shit?” Dean asked.

“Most of it was crap, like you’d get at some magic shop or whatever. There were a few pieces worth something. A dagger with diamonds in the hilt, a silver bridle….and that box. I wouldn’t have thought anything about the box, to be honest, except people with black eyes kept trying to take it away from me.”

Dean nodded. It didn’t tell him any more than he’d already known. Which wasn’t much. 

“Is Sam okay?” Eliot asked, his voice pitched even lower. 

Dean looked up, his eyes tracking Sam before looking at Eliot and nodding. “He will be.”

“He seemed pretty freaked out last night….about...us.”Eliot’s eyes narrowed and held on Dean’s, checking in, asking more than just about Sam.

Dean offered him a tight smile. “We’re good. Water under the bridge, right? Forget it ever happened.”

“He’s good at that.”

They both looked up to find Mary standing there, hands on her hips. “Walk away, forget everything.”

“I never forgot, Mars. He was the one who told me not to come back.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. That definitely sounded like their father.

“You were the one who took him at his word. He calmed down, tried to find you.”

“Where I went, no one would have found me.” Eliot said, standing and wiping his hands down his jeans. “And that’s all I’m ever telling you about it.” He moved away, headed for the cooler for another beer, leaving Dean and Mary.

“Now you...I don’t know if I should thank you for bringing him back here or kick your ass for it.”

Dean smirked as she sat next to him, arms crossed over her chest. “I didn’t do anything. He was the one who brought us here.” He looked at her. “You and your sister seem to be taking this pretty well.”

She turned to look at him, and he could see so much of his father in her face that he had to blink and look away. “Don’t think I don’t realize the math is off. There’s no way you came from some first marriage. You and Eliot are practically the same age...and Sam over there? He’s the same age as me and Emma.”

Dean wasn’t sure how to answer her, so he didn’t.

“Don’t get me wrong, I thought he was having some affair or something when I was still a kid. He’d go away for a week at a time, long weekends….Emma and I used to fantasize about him having a second family, about one day meeting brothers and sisters we never knew..”

“Truth can be stranger than any fiction we tell ourselves.” Dean said. “You got a lot better from him than we ever did. He was here for you when you needed him.”

She nodded. “He would always come home from those trips sad.” She sighed. “ He cried last night after you left. He wouldn’t want me to tell you that, but I heard him. He loves you two.”

“Yeah, but he loves you too.” Dean responded. “I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you.”

“Mars, can you give me a hand in the kitchen?” Emma called and she stood.

“Duty calls.”

Dean watched her go, then turned to find Sam. He turned away from their father, his face pale, his thumb pressing deeply against the scar on his hand. Dean stood, abandoning his beer and crossing to where Sam was stumbling across the yard. “Sam?”

Sam’s eyes were closed and he was breathing hard. “Hey, Sammy. Come on. Talk to me.”

“Can’t.” Sam squeezed the word out from between clenched teeth. 

“Whatever you’re seeing, it isn’t real.” Dean comforted. 

“Dean?”

He held up his hand to hold their father off, circling in front of Sam to stop him, sliding his hands up Sam’s arms to his shoulders. “Open your eyes. Tell me what you see.”

Sam’s eyes were bloodshot when he opened them and Dean knew in an instant that what was going on his brother’s head wasn’t a hallucination, but a memory. “Okay, okay...take a deep breath. Focus on me, on now.”

Sam was shaking, but he tried to do what Dean instructed, his breathing tight. Tears leaked from his eyes and he pulled in another breath. He nodded a little. “Okay, let’s find you some place quiet.”

“Dean?” His father’s voice was a little more insistent, and Dean spared a moment to look at him.

“Give me a minute to get him inside. I’ll explain.” He walked Sam toward the house, pausing outside the kitchen. “Emma, Sam’s not feeling too well, do you have some place he can lay down for a while?”

She was all motherly concern as she came toward them, wiping her hands on a towel. “Of course, second door on the left is the guest room. Does he need anything?”

Dean smiled and shook his head. “No, just some quiet. Thanks.”

He got them into the room and the door closed before he let go of his brother. Sam sank onto the bed, his hands covering his face, wiping away the tears. “Sorry...I just….” He shook his head, looking up at Dean. “I couldn’t stop it.” 

“That wasn’t a hallucination, Sam.” 

“No. It wasn’t.” He inhaled slowly. “It was worse. It was like being back there, like it was real. I could see you, hear you...but I was there, in the pit.” He shuddered. “I’m okay now. I just, I need some time.”

“Get some rest. I’ll go try to smooth things over.”

He left Sam laying down and headed back outside, assuring Emma as he passed through the kitchen that Sam was fine. His father wouldn’t be as easy to convince. He wasn’t even fully out the back door before his father was in his face.

“What was that?”

Dean looked past him at Wayne and the kids. “Not here.”

John looked over his shoulder. “Wayne, I’m making a run to the store for that ice cream Emma likes.” He grabbed Dean’s elbow and escorted him around the side of the house.

“Dad--”

“Get in the car.” John pointed to the Impala.

Dean pulled the keys from his pocket. He opened the driver’s side door, but his father was running a hand over the hood. “You did a good job.”

Dean couldn’t control the swell of pride and the smile. “It was a lot of work. That semi did a number on her.”

His father’s smile was a little sad. “Yeah, I remember.” He shook his head and climbed in the passenger side of the car. “Drive.”

The car was silent until they were nearly a mile from the house. “We’ve been through a lot.” Dean said to break the silence. “Sam...he’s got problems.”

He could feel his father’s eyes on him. “What problems?”

“Hallucinations.” He cleared his throat. “Memories.” 

“Memories? What memories?”

Dean exhaled and tried to find a way to say it that would soften the blow. There really wasn’t one though. “He wasn’t just spouting off when he said we’d both died. Well, multiple times actually...but Sam...he stopped the apocalypse, you know that? He was...but to do it, he dove into a cage in hell with two whacked out mother-fuckers…”

“Apocalypse? Dean, what are you talking about?”

He pulled off the road beside a field and turned the car off. “You missed a lot, Dad.”

“I’m getting that. I’m here now though. Give me the high view.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not sure there is a high view.” He exhaled. “Okay...long story short...you died, the damn yellow eyed demon was trying to put together an army, and Sam was part of some Survivor style last-man standing fight. Only, he didn’t win...and I didn’t get to him in time.”

His throat clenched and he turned away. He could still remember the feeling of Sam in his arms, the boneless way he fell into Dean, the weight of his head, the heat of his blood on his hands. He opened the door and got out of the car. 

He paced the length of the car twice, then leaned against the hood. “He died. In my arms. Another one of the demon’s special kids cut his spinal chord.” 

The car shifted as his father got out of the car. Tears burned in the corners of his eyes, tears he thought he had long since gotten past. “Not like me in that hospital bed. He was dead. But I couldn’t...so I followed your lead.”

“You made a deal.” John said softly.

Dean nodded. “I summoned a cross-roads demon and I made her give Sam back to me.”

“And your end of the deal?”

Dean shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “A year, then hell. Which...turns out, isn’t all fun and games. I got pulled out of there by an angel, of all things, to find Sam starting to go darkside in his effort to rescue me...and that we started the apocalypse.”

“Wait, angel?”

“Yeah, that was my reaction too.” Dean said, turning to lean back against the car. “Yeah, angels...demons, gods...it’s been a crazy couple of years. They needed Sam to get really powerful with that psychic shit, to kill a very powerful demon...it was the last step to raising Lucifer.”

“As in the devil?”

Dean nodded. “See...angels, like demons, need a human body to inhabit to interact on the mortal plane. Only, they’re tied to specific people, vessels, who have to allow the angel inside. And as it turns out, Sam is Lucifer’s vessel. We fought like hell to defeat him once Sam let him loose, but in the end, the only way was for Sam to let him in, and hope he was strong enough to throw him back into his cage once I got it open.”

He could feel the numbness that had taken over after Sam jumped in...the year of trying to live normal with Lisa and Ben. “Castiel, the angel that pulled me out of hell, he pulled Sam out of the pit, but he didn’t get all of him, left Sam’s soul behind for Lucifer and Michael to torment. It was over a year before we figured it out and got his soul back….but he was so..damaged. We had to block his memory of it behind this sort of wall, to keep him from falling apart.”

“Another angel trick?” John asked.

“Sort of.” Dean responded. His story was already pretty insane, he didn’t think his father really needed to know that Dean was on speaking terms with Death. “Things were good for a while. Sam was good.”

“But?” John prodded.

“But...Castiel lost his shit, broke down the wall, opened purgatory and…” Dean shook his head. “Sam...he was okay for a while. Or he pretended better, or something. But lately...he hallucinates, sees Lucifer, hears him. And he has nightmares. I don’t pretend to know what he went through down in that cage, but it was bad. It was worse than anything I dealt with in hell. Bad like we can’t ever know.”

They were quiet for a long time, then John shifted beside him. “Is that all of it? Is that everything?”

Dean wiped at his eyes. “No, you wanted the high view. That’s the high view.” He stood up. “There are bad guys out there, Crowley and his demons...Leviathans...and that’s on top of all the regular crap...all gunning for us.”

“Dean…”

“I know. It’s a lot to take in. I get it.” 

“You know how it sounds.” John said. 

Dean nodded. “Yeah, insane. I know. And you’ve been out of the game for a long time.” He went to the trunk, an idea occurring to him. “You know, this might be a better way.” He rummaged in one of the duffle bags to come up with his father’s journal, and with it another book that was starting to look nearly as worn . “We kept your journal, but when it got too full, we started another one. I can’t promise it tells the whole story, but the facts are there at least.”

He shoved the two books at his old man and closed the trunk. “Now, though, I want to get back to Sam. I don’t like leaving him alone.”

 

He didn’t exactly sleep, though he zoned out and drifted in the dark, circling around a deep hole of memory he couldn’t afford to fall into. 

_I’m not going away, Sammy._

Not real, Sam reminded himself, sitting up and turning his back on the hallucination. His thumb found it’s way to the scar on his hand, pressing inward, but Lucifer didn’t go away.

_It’s not that simple._

Sam huffed and stood, pacing the small room. He could hear the family in the other room. Thunder rumbled nearby.

_You know you belong with me, Sam. You know you’re only weighing your brother down._

“Stop it. Leave me alone.” Sam growled, pressing in harder against the scar. His whole hand hurt with the pressure before Lucifer seemed to disappear. “He’s not real. He’s not real.” Sam whispered to himself.

“Sam?” 

His father’s voice. it sent a thrill of fear through him, but Sam cleared his throat and responded. “Yeah.”

The door opened and his father filled the opening, pausing briefly before stepping in and closing the door. “You okay?”

Sam sort of shrugged and went back to pacing, his thumb caressing over the scar. “I don’t know, to be honest.”

“Dean...he told me what happened. Sort of.” 

Sam stopped and looked at him, alarmed, then relieved. “You must be so disappointed in the two of us.” He shook his head and resumed pacing. At least it was movement, even if it didn’t solve anything.

“Disappointed?” His father’s hands caught his shoulders and pulled him to a stop. “How can you even think that?”

Sam couldn’t quite look him in the eye. “After everything you sacrificed...we just….we fuck up everything.”

John shook his head, pulling Sam into a hug. “No, Sam. Never think that I am anything other than proud of you and your brother.”

_He’s lying._

Sam stiffened involuntarily and his father let go of him. “Sorry.” He moved away from both his father and his delusion.

“Can you tell me?” John asked, his voice soft.

“He’s right there. Behind you.” Sam said, his voice strangled and tight. “I know he isn’t real...he’s just...in my head.”

_Of course I’m real, Sam. This is the delusion. You’re trying to escape the only way you can, but you’re here with me._

Sam pulled in a deep breath, turning to look at his father. “I’m okay.”

“Bullshit.” John responded, startling Sam. He was so used to Dean just accepting it, even if he didn’t believe Sam. “You are not okay, Sam. You’re falling apart.”

Sam nodded in agreement. He wasn’t wrong. “I know. I just...Dean needs me to be okay. I need...to be okay. We’ve lost so much.” Dean wouldn’t survive losing him too.

_Dean is off living a normal life, just like you told him to. He’s forgotten you._

Sam pressed his scar and pushed at the delusion. “I have to be okay.”

His father sighed and sat on the bed. “Saying it, wanting it doesn’t make it happen.”

Sam swallowed and went back to pacing. “I don’t have anything else.”

“You have me.” His father rubbed his hands down his thighs and inhaled deeply. “I know I haven’t been there..and even when I was, I wasn’t...I’ve never been the best father to you boys….”

“You did the best you could. We know that.”

“I don’t.” 

Sam shook his head. “What?”

“One thing I’ve learned since I ended up here, is that I had no business dragging the two of your around the way I did. I can’t help but believe this would never have come to be like this if I’d just done the right thing, and let someone else do the hunting.”

Sam smiled and sat next to him. “Maybe it wouldn’t have been exactly the same, but no...it would have happened anyway. We’ve been being maneuvered into this since before we were born.”

“This something to do with the angels and all that shit?” his father asked, looking uncomfortable with the idea.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean...the whole vessel thing...it runs in families. You were Michael’s vessel before Dean was.”

John frowned at him. “Wait, Dean didn’t say anything about that. He said you were the vessel.”

“I was...am...for Lucifer. Dean is Michael’s vessel.”

“Michael and Lucifer. I’m never getting used to that.” John said. “Dean said you were down there for over a year.”

Sam inhaled deeply and swallowed, ignoring the bubbling memory that was threatening to pull him in. “My soul at least, yeah. I...he...Castiel...he thought he was helping. He didn’t realize he’d left part of me behind….not until Dean called him because he thought something was wrong with me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Cas, he…” But Sam wasn’t sure how to explain Castiel and the changes the angel had gone through in the time they had known him. “He made mistakes, bad decisions. Hell, he was practically one of us.”

“Was?”

Sam got up and went back to pacing. “As far as we know, he’s gone. Dead.”

“How do you kill an angel?”

“It’s not easy.”

“Dad? I’m putting the kids to bed. Did you want to say goodnight?”

John stood and crossed to the door, cracking it open. “Give me just a minute.” He turned to Sam. “I know this is all…” he shrugged as if he couldn’t find the words. “But, I’m here for you. I want you to know that.”

“Thanks.” Sam watched him go and followed him to the door, easing out and heading out to the living room. Dean met his eyes and Sam nodded. 

“Emma set you aside a plate, if you’re hungry.” Wayne said, gesturing toward the kitchen.

“Thanks, I think maybe I’ll pass. I’m still not feeling real great.”

“I think that’s our cue to get out of your hair.” Dean said, inclining his head toward the door. “Tell Dad we’ll call him tomorrow.” Dean held the door and Sam ducked through it, stopping as Eliot looked up from a chair on the porch.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” Eliot said into his phone, his eyes holding Sam to the spot as he hung up. “You don’t look too good.”

Sam smiled a little. “I need some sleep. I’ll be fine.”

Eliot stood, putting his phone in his pocket. “I don’t buy it.”

“Join the club.” Dean said behind him.

Sam held up both hands and took the stairs down to the sidewalk. He was feeling a little teamed up on and his balance on the edge of his sanity was already precarious. “We need to talk.” Eliot said behind him.

“Right, because we do that so well.” Sam replied, opening the passenger side door of the Impala.

“What we did, before…” Eliot started, his hands on his hips. “...it wasn’t wrong.”

Sam so did not want to talk about that. “Eliot, please. Stop.” His head filled with images of Eliot naked, of him and Dean kissing, all hard and urgent, pushing each other toward the bed. He shook his head. 

“Not until I know you’re okay with it. Because we didn’t know about this, about this brothers thing.”

Sam rubbed at the throb in his temples. “Trust me Eliot, right now it’s the last thing on my mind.” Which wasn’t true, but he wanted it to be and in the list of things he had to be a mess over, it wasn’t the biggest. It wasn’t even the most twisted thing he’d ever done in his life.

“Maybe we can handle this when Sam’s feeling a little better.” Dean interceded.

“I’m leaving in the morning.” Eliot answered. “Got a job. I just wanted to get the box to the two of you and see the old man. Wasn’t prepared for...all of this.”

“What kind of job?” Dean asked as Sam got into the car.

“Not entirely sure, got a call from my team. I’m meeting up with them in Lexington.” Sam could still feel Eliot looking at him. “Unless you need me to stay.”

Dean shook his head. “We’re good. We have work to do too, probably need to get moving soon ourselves.”

Eliot nodded, holding out his hand. “So, I’ll call you?”

Dean smiled and shook his hand. “We’ll meet up.”

“You two take care of yourselves.” Eliot walked away, back toward the house and Dean got into the car with a sigh.

“I’m fine, Dean.” Sam said to the unasked question he could feel hanging between them. It was a lie and they both knew that...but Dean’s only response was to put the car in drive and send them toward their motel.

 

Dean left Sam sleeping, after drugging his coffee to make sure he would and went out to the car, opening the trunk and shifting things aside so he could lift the false panel. They had installed the lock box a while back, secured with a combination of locks and sigils that kept even angels from seeing what was in it. He dialed Bobby’s number after opening it, running a finger over the symbol etched into the box Eliot had given him. 

“Hey, it’s me.”

Bobby grumbled and groused about the number of books he’d been through and how hard it was without his old collection. “So, you’ve got nothing?” Dean asked, irritated himself.

“Don’t you get smart with me idjit. I didn’t say I got nothing. I said it is difficult to find anything when the core of my collection is gone. Got some old angel lore that might help. Be better if I could get a look at the box. When you getting here?”

“We’re still in Kentucky.” Dean said, looking up at the sound of footsteps. He raised a hand at his father who was crossing the street from the diner.

“Why? Catch a case?”

“Sort of. It’s a long story. Might be better in person.”

“You forget we got an army of shape-shifting face eaters to deal with?” Bobby asked.

“No, I haven’t forgotten Bobby. Something came up though.”

“Sam alright?”

Dean took a deep breath. “I drugged his coffee this morning because he didn’t sleep much again last night, if that’s any indication. He’ll be pissed at me when he wakes up, but at least he’ll have slept.” He felt the look his father was giving him without looking up. “Look, I have to go. Keep looking. Call me if you find anything.” He hung up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re drugging your brother?”

“You would have too. He hasn’t slept but for a few hours last night, which ended in a nightmare that nearly resulted in broken furniture. He’s going to hurt himself.”

John nodded toward the box. “What’s that?”

Dean took a deep breath. “That is the reason Sam and I are here. Eliot came across it working a job down south, got him chased by demons, so he figured me and Sam should have it.”

“Demons?” John put his hands in his pockets and looked Dean in the eye. “You open it?”

“Yes. And we aren’t doing it again. Not while Sam is anywhere nearby.”

“Why?”

“The way he reacted, like he took a knee to the stomach.” Dean had never seen anything like it...Sam’s reaction or the contents of the box. “We don’t know why, though Bobby’s got a feeling it’s got to do with Lucifer. He’s researching.”

“Bobby, huh?” John asked. 

Dean snorted and closed the lock box, then the trunk. “Yeah. He’s researching.”

“You tell him about me?”

Dean shook his head. “No, I thought I’d actually let you live a while longer.”

“He’s still holding a grudge?”

“Let’s just say he has a few choice opinions about you and leave it at that.”

“Okay. What about you?”

Dean frowned. “Me?”

“You and Sam.”

“What about us?”

“You’ve been through so much. You must have a some grudges of your own.”

“I’d be lying if I said we both didn’t have issues with the way things were, but we don’t have time for second guessing and pointing fingers. Too much to deal with now.”

“Morning John.”

His father waved to the woman walking her dog past the motel. “I’m late. Walk with me?”

Dean glanced at the door of the motel, then nodded. “Sure. Where are we going?”

“I have to open the store.”

Dean snorted and fell into step beside his father. “I still can’t imagine you here, all these years, working a hardware store.”

His father chuckled. “Trust me, for the longest time, neither could I.”

They walked in silence for a while, turning onto the main street of town. John unlocked the door to the store and flicked on the lights. It was like any other over-crowded, small town hardware store Dean had ever seen, though it was more orderly than many. His father moved through an aisle and toward the back, and Dean followed slowly.

“Come on back here, I want you to see something.” John called from behind the register.

Dean came around the counter and followed John into a back room, where he pulled out his keys again and opened what Dean thought was a closet door, but turned out to be the door into a small room. A devil’s trap was painted on the floor and there was a desk crammed into one corner. The opposite wall was covered with a huge map of the US and pictures and news clippings.

At first he just took it as a wall of hunts his father couldn’t go on, but as he stared he realized that it was more than that. There were pictures of Dean and Sam and their father that he had never seen before, each pinned near some town. “You took these?”

John nodded. “I used to take vacations a couple times a year. I’d figure out where in the world we were squatting at the time, and I’d go looking. I eventually stopped because it hurt too much.”

The door chimed and John left Dean alone looking at the pictures. His fingers traveled over the map to a place on the east coast and a picture of him and Sam and a dark haired kid with blue eyes at a playground. Sam was maybe seven and was missing two of his front teeth and they were both in thrift store jackets.

Dean pulled the picture down, leaning against the desk. He remembered the playground, and the kid who they had spent a week exploring the local woods with. A kid Dean remembered was named Eliot. He came out of the room and went out into the store where John was saying goodbye to an older man. He showed his father the picture.

“You brought Eliot with you.”

His father’s eyes sparkled. “I remembered that you hated that town so much. It was off season, and there weren’t many kids there. Sam wanted to do normal things. You wanted a friend. I was hunting a spirit that had a nasty habit of drowning people. It was the week between Christmas and New Years.”

“So you brought your other son to entertain us?”

“You boys had fun.” He smiled, taking the picture. “And Eliot talked about you two all the way home.” He ran a finger over the image, then handed it back to Dean. “It wasn’t long after that that I stopped travleing. But I always knew where you were, at least up until the year I was supposed to die.” He walked them back into the small room and pulled a book out of the desk drawer. He flipped it open to a page of newspaper clippings Dean recognized immediately.

“That wasn’t us,” he said quickly. “Damn fucking Leviathans.”

“I almost came hunting for you. Almost.”

“We got those two. But there are more. A lot more.” Dean reached for the book, flipping through the pages. There were notes on cases and clippings from newspapers. “That also wasn’t me.” Dean said pointing at the article from the incident in St. Louis. “Fucking shapeshifters.”

“Go ahead, look through it. I need to get out front.”

Dean picked it up, glancing at his father before nodding. “Yeah, okay.” It was a fair request, to read about his father’s life without them. Dean settled to the chair and turned back to the beginning of the journal. There was a picture there of his father and mother when they were young. The note said 1975, so it was after he and Sam had gone back in time to stop Anna. His father’s destiny was already changed...provided Sam was right about the whole vessel business.

The first entries were hard to read. His father’s observations were terse and the self hate over the deal was evident in every line. Dean skimmed through the pages until he found Elizabeth’s name for the first time. There was a sketch of a car and picture of a blond girl, with hair down to her waist and blue eyes that reminded him of Eliot. 

“She makes me smile.” It was the only thing written on the page. He kept flipping, stopping on a page marked with his birth date.

>   
> Right now, in a hospital in Lawrence, I’m sitting with Mary, holding our son and I am so incredibly happy. I have no idea of the twists that will rip my family away from me. Lizzy is sleeping, our child growing inside of her. It’s a chance to have what I never did. But I can’t let go of Mary and Dean and Sam. I never will. Deal or not.

_Fire and acid pour over him and he can’t move, can’t scream. Laughter and the feeling of hands on his skin, pushing, poking, breaking through to play with his insides until he convulses with the combined pain. “Don’t run away yet, Sammy. We’re just getting started.”_

Sam sat up in the gloom of the motel room, his skin clammy and his stomach sick. He sucked in air to fight the urge to throw up. “Dean?” 

His brother wasn’t there though. He was alone. 

Sam stood shakily, pulling a hand through his sweaty hair. It was better than Dean wasn’t there. It gave him time to pull himself together. He stripped down and headed in to shower. The dreams were getting worse, more real, more visceral. He half expected to wake up with his chest cut open.

He turned the water on and stepped in, closing his eyes as the water flowed over him. Once the sweat and sick feeling washed away, he turned the hot water down, hoping the tepid water would cool him.

Sam rolled his head, cracking his neck before getting out of the shower and wrapping a towel around himself. His phone was ringing as he emerged out of the bathroom, Bobby’s name showing on the caller ID. “Hey, Bobby.”

“Hey yourself. What’s the name of the town you two idjits are squatting in?”

“Fairfield, why?” 

“I may have something on your mystery box. I’m a few hours away.”

“That might not be the best idea, Bobby. Hold up. We’ll meet you.”

“Why? What are you two into?”

“Nothing, just…” He sighed, not sure how exactly to tell Bobby what was going down.

“Well play time is over. Kiss whatever pretty thing you’re flirting with goodbye and get your damn heads back in the game.”

Bobby hung up before Sam could say anything else. Sam looked at his phone for a long minute before he dialed Dean’s number. “Hey, where are you?”

“Hardware store, with Dad. How you feeling?”

“Better. I think.” At least, he hoped if he was focused on something other than his problems he would be better. “We may have trouble. Bobby’s on his way. Be here in a few hours. Said he might have something.”

“Yeah, okay. We’ll handle it I guess. Meet me at the diner.”

“Yeah. I could eat.” Sam hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket. He sat to pull his shoes on, grabbed his wallet from the nightstand and headed out, stopping when he opened the door to find Eliot standing on the other side. “Eliot. I thought you were leaving.”

Eliot shoved him into the room, throwing the door shut behind them. “So did I, until I ran into some familiar thugs when I stopped for gas.”

“Familiar?”

“Black eyes, bad attitude. Same two I ditched in Georgia. I don’t think they saw me, but they’re definitely looking for me. Or at least the box.”

“Great, because this whole thing hasn’t gotten complicated enough.”

“Where is the box?” Eliot asked, his eyes sweeping the room.

“Safe. Dean put it where no demon can find it.”

“You figure out what it is yet?”

Sam shrugged. “Not really. Other things have been pressing.” He gestured at the door. “I was about to go meet Dean at the diner.”

“Yeah, okay. I gotta call Nate.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket as Sam opened the door, checking to make sure there was no one lurking about. “It’s me. I got delayed. No, I’ll be there, Nate. Just not tonight. Don’t do anything stupid.” He hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket.

“What is it exactly that you do again?” Sam asked as they crossed the parking lot.

“It depends on the job. Mostly I get things out of sticky situations...one way or another.”

“And Nate is..?”

Eliot sort of shrugged. “I work with a team. He’s the team leader.”

“So, your boss”

“Something like that.” Eliot agreed, but it felt like there was more too it.

“Hey, I thought you were leaving.” Dean said as he approached from down the street.

“He ran into some demons on his way out of town.”

“Figured I should come let you know. Maybe stick around, lend a hand.”

“Hello boys.” 

Eliot’s face transformed in rage as he whipped around, his fist flying before Sam had even turned to see the speaker. Not that he needed to see who it was. The voice was quite enough to tell him that Crowley had found them. Eliot’s fist landed a solid blow to Crowley’s startled face before Sam and Dean pulled him back.

“Now that wasn’t very nice.”

“Crowley.” Dean growled the name, making Eliot look at him.

“That’s Sterling.”

“You boys have something that belongs to me. I want it.” Crowley said, rubbing his jaw.

“We’re not giving you anything, you son of a bitch.” Dean responded.

“Now, now Squirrel, you haven’t even heard my offer.” Crowley smiled at them. “How’s the melon, Moose?” 

“Shut it, and get lost.” Dean growled, his hand still on Eliot’s arm.

“I can help him shut up.” Eliot threatened, pulling away from Dean. 

Crowley laughed. “And who’s this now? Pet?”

Sam grabbed at Eliot just as he would have launched himself at Crowley. “You’re going to get yourself killed.” Sam said. “He’s a demon.”

“Boys?” Sam turned as their father joined them, feeling a little like they were putting all of their secrets on display for Crowley to see.

“Oh, now this is interesting. Winchester Sr, I presume?” Crowley said, eyebrow raised. “Always wondered where you’d gotten off to.”

“Who are you?” John asked, obvious disdain in his voice.

“Me? Well, since your boys killed everyone ahead of me, and locked ol’ Lucifer back up in his cage, I’m the King of Hell.”

“Crowley.” Dean supplied. “We’re not giving you whatever it is you want.”

“Oh, no, I think you will. You don’t have your guardian angel to protect you anymore.” Crowley took a step closer. “So, here’s the deal. You have twenty four hours to hand it over, or I start getting angry. You know you won’t like me when I’m angry.”

They all stood there silent after Crowley had disappeared, at least until John cleared his throat. “One of you want to tell me what that was about?”

Dean blinked and nodded. “Like he said, we knocked off the demons above him, Azazel, Lilith….and with Lucifer out of the picture, he stepped up.”

“What is it he thinks you have?”

“The box.” Eliot responded, shrugging free of Sam’s hand. “He wants the box.”

“Which means that no matter what, we can’t let him get it.” Sam said.

“I think it’s time you show me this box.” John said, his face dark.

Dean shook his head. “Not here. I’ve got it locked down. And I’m not taking it out without protection. We need a place big enough to park the Impala in.”

“Is the old barn still standing?” Eliot asked.

John nodded. “Yeah, haven’t gotten around to tearing it down.”

“We’ll need some supplies.” Dean looked up at Sam. “We got enough of that spray paint?”

Sam nodded. “I don’t know. We probably need more.”

“Not we.” Dean countered. “Me and Dad, you’re not going to be there.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yes, I am.”

“Sam, I saw how it affected you when I opened it.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You weren’t fine. It wasn’t just the way you reacted to it while it was open. You haven’t had a day that bad since Castiel first broke the wall.”

“I dealt with it. I’m better today.”

“Sam--”

“No. Dean. I’m going to be there.”

“I am too.” Eliot said, crossing his arms. “I’m the one that brought the damn thing to you.”

“Sam why don’t you and Eliot go to the store? Mary’s there running the register, she can get you spray paint. Eliot can show you where the barn is. Dean and I will go start setting up.” John said, stopping Dean’s next protest. 

“Okay, we’ll meet you there.” Sam agreed, though he wasn’t convinced Dean wouldn’t try to start without them. He had to trust his father would keep him busy.

 

“I really don’t want Sam here.” Dean said as he shook the can of red spray paint, examining the elaborate devil’s trap he’d already painted. 

“I think it’s his decision,” his father countered. “This is new.”

Dean shook his head and squatted to add some finishing touches. “Old, actually. One of the oldest we’ve ever found. But that isn’t even the best part.” He moved to the opposite side of the circle, adding a few more lines. “Okay, once that’s dry we can bring the car in.” His can was nearly empty. “When Sam gets here I’ll show you how to ward against angels.”

“Angels.” His father was shaking his head. “You know, I’ve read through the journal and I still don’t believe half of what you’ve done.”

“Hell, I’ve lived through it and I don’t believe half of it.” Dean replied. 

“I wish I had been there.” His father’s voice was soft, but it cut into him all the same.

“Yeah, I wish you had been there too.” Dean responded. “You don’t know how many times I wished for that.” 

They were quiet for a few minutes and Dean crossed to the Impala. “Okay, let me pull in.” He started the engine and eased the car in through the barn doors, stopping it roughly in the center of the devil’s trap.

He got out of the car and was surprised to be pulled into a hug. “I am proud of you,” his father said in his ear. 

Dean patted his back and stepped back, blinking a little. He could hear Eliot’s truck, and what sounded like a smaller car. “Uh...I don’t think Sam and Eliot are alone.” He went back to the door, but Sam was already out of the truck and coming at them fast, a bag in his hands.

“Bobby.” Sam said as he shoved the bag at Dean. 

Dean could see it was Bobby though, as the older man got out of the car he was driving, looking more than a little pissed off. “Hey, Bobby.”

“I been calling you.”

Dean nodded. “I had the ringer turned off.” He could feel his father approaching behind him. “Bobby…” But he didn’t know how to say it and he ended up just turning as his father appeared beside him.

Bobby’s mouth opened, his eyes skipping from Dean to John and back again. “What in the hell is going on here?”

“Bobby, it’s good to see you.” John said.

Bobby didn’t respond, just narrowed his eyes at Dean. “It’s him Bobby. We checked. No shifter or demon or Leviathan.”

“How?”

“We aren’t completely sure why, but when he made the deal to save my life, he wasn’t killed, he was sent back in time.” Dean said, sparing a glance at his father. 

Bobby’s face was tight and drawn, the anger only racheting up. “You mean to say he’s been hiding here in Kentucky all this time?”

“It’s not that simple.” John said.

Bobby’s fist flew, slamming into John’s face and sending him scrambling backwards. Eliot jumped in, pulling Bobby back before he could swing again and Dean stepped between them.

“Bobby.” Dean shifted the bag and pressed a hand to Bobby’s chest.

“Does he have any fucking clue what you two have been through?”

“Yes. I do.” John replied, rubbing at his jaw. “And if you don’t think I’m sorry, you don’t know me very well.”

“Sorry ain’t good enough.” Bobby growled, shaking free of Eliot. “You put those boys through hell.”

“I thought it was the right thing to do at the time.” John said. “And I don’t think I’d change what I did if I could.”

“Your boys have been fighting your war, fighting heaven and hell, and now we got purgatory tossed in the mix and you’re what? Sitting in the dark with your thumb up your ass?”

“Bobby, it’s okay.” Dean said.

“Like hell it is.”

“I did what I had to.” John said. “It kept my boys alive.”

“Not to interrupt all of this tension with a little reminder, but aren’t we here for a reason?” Eliot asked, gesturing at Sam who had a can of spray paint out and was ignoring the four of them as he painted symbols on the barn walls.

Dean nodded, pulling a can out of the bag and shoving it at Bobby. “We want this place invisible.”

Bobby nodded, his eyes still on John, and took the can. “I’ll get this side.”

“Eliot, keep an eye on Sam. Dad, come around back, we’ll do that side.” Dean lead his father through the barn and out to the back side, shaking the remaining can of paint.

His father was quiet as Dean picked a spot and started painting. “He’ll come around.” Dean said once he had the first symbol drawn.

John shrugged and came to look at the symbol. “Last time he and I spoke we had a fight over you boys. He loves you. I can’t be angry about that.”

Dean squinted at him and shook his head.

“What?”

He moved to another spot and lifted the spray can. “Nothing. Just...you’ve changed.”

His father chuckled. “I suppose I have. To be honest, I think it took Eliot leaving for me to see what I was doing, how I pushed him away by trying too hard to keep him close. I did the same with Sam.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and exhaled slowly. “I was a pretty angry guy for a long time, Dean. Losing your mother the way I did really screwed me up, and I let it take you and your brother down with me.”

Dean wasn’t really sure how to respond to that. He finished the symbol and moved a little further down. “You know...after everything I’ve seen, I don’t think it’s all on you. I mean...I’ve gone back twice and I couldn’t change anything. Well, except maybe you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Maybe nothing. The second time we got sent back it was to stop a rogue angel from killing Mom, only we weren’t doing such a bang up job. You...You let Michael take you to save us. We think maybe that altered how your deal went down.”

“You think?”

Dean finished the last symbol and turned to look at his father. “Yeah. Sam speculated that old Yellow Eyes couldn’t actually take you to hell once you’d been a vessel for an archangel. We think that the first time around, he actually did take you to hell, but after the whole time travel thing he had to improvise.”

“How do you know?”

Dean shrugged. “Don’t. It’s all just speculation, but sometimes that’s the best we’ve got. I’m done here.”

Sam and Eliot were standing by the car and Bobby was just coming in the other door. Dean nodded to his father to close the doors as Eliot and Sam did the same on the other side. “Okay, we’re all buttoned up.” Dean said, looking at Bobby. “So, before we go opening Pandora’s box, why don’t you tell me what you found?”

“A lot of nothing at first. There’s a lot of nasty things that eat hearts and rituals that use hearts, but I wasn’t finding anything about a heart in a box.” He pulled off his sweat stained cap to scratch at his head, then put it back on. “So I dug a little deeper. Found some ancient lore with a mention of an angel’s heart. That led me to an obscure reference to a battle between Michael and Lucifer back before the cage. Lucifer would not die, so his heart was cut out, releasing the light of his being, which was dragged below.”

“Are you saying that what is in that box is Lucifer’s heart?” Eliot asked. “Like, the devil?”

“It’s a possibility.” Bobby said. “Only one I got.”

“But why?” Dean asked. “And how does it still look like...an actual heart and not some shriveled up piece of shoe leather?”

“Beats me.” Bobby admitted. “Like I said, what I found was barely a reference.”

“What about the box itself?” John asked, crossing his arms. “Is there any writing on it?”

Dean sighed and went to the trunk of the car. He opened the trunk, then leaned in to trace the lines of the sigil that covered the lockbox before unlocking the mundane lock. He whispered the Latin code word and the lockbox opened.

His father whistled behind him. “That’s some security you’ve got there, Son.”

“Can’t be too careful these days.” Sam responded, shifting nervously beside him. Dean lifted the box up and out, closing the trunk and setting the box on it.

Bobby and John both leaned in from opposite sides, scowling at the box. “Enochian?”

Dean nodded. “Looks that way. Where is Cas when you need him?” He managed to keep his tone light, even though his stomach twisted as he remembered the last time he saw Castiel. 

“Let me see it.” John said, tugging the box closer, squinting at it. “Uh….yeah...Enochian. I might be able to work on it, I’ve got some references back at the house.”

“Oh for fuck sake.” Eliot rolled his head, cracking his neck and took the box. “I figured you guys would know this stuff.”

“Oh, you think you can do better, Mr. Smarty Pants?” Dean asked.

Eliot huffed and looked away. “It says that whoever consumes the contents of the box will have the power god gave the angels, to see the hearts of men and rise to the heights of the heavens, to raise the dead and to lay low the wicked.”

Dean turned to look at him, as did the rest of them. He shrugged. “What?” He gestured at the box. “I told you I knew it was more your thing than mine.”

“You didn’t mention that you read Enochian.” Dean responded.

Eliot rolled his eyes. “It isn’t...exactly Enochian. It’s a derivative. Special forces used something similar for codes for a while.”

“Special forces?” John asked, his eyes narrowing in a look that Dean knew well. It meant John would be grilling Eliot about it later.

“I don’t talk about it.” Eliot countered, gesturing back at the box. “What does it mean?”

“It means that no matter what else, we can’t let Crowley get at it.” Sam said.

“Or anyone else.” Dean agreed. “We need to destroy it.”

“Don’t you think that if it could be destroyed, it would have been?” Bobby asked.

“Only one way to find out.” Dean took the box and put it on the ground, pulling out his gun and taking aim.

“Dean, wait.” Sam said, a hand on the gun. “Think about this. Let’s not make another stupid mistake.”

“No mistake Sam, I’m going to shoot it, salt and burn it, whatever it takes.”

“No, we need to know what we’re doing first.” Sam argued.

“I hate to keep agreeing with Sam here,” their father said. “But he’s right. Trying to destroy it and failing could make things worse.”

“Worse is Crowley getting his hands on this thing and getting all that power.” Dean argued.

“So we hide it here, behind all the sigils and crap you put up until we figure out the best way to destroy it.”

“He’s right.” Bobby agreed, stepping up to Dean’s side. “We need more to go on.”

Dean wanted to end it, but he knew they were right. “No, not here.” Dean put the box back into the lockbox in the trunk. “I want it where I know it’s safe. It stays with me.”

“So, what’s next?” Sam asked. Dean looked up at him, startled by how tired he suddenly looked. “And what about Crowley?”

“Fuck Crowley. We get back to the job, is what.” Dean said. “Bobby said something about a hunt in Jersey.”

John frowned at him. “Just like that?”

“What, you want us to stay and play house or something?” Dean asked with a snort.

“He could...come with.” Sam offered, though Dean wasn’t sure whether it was hope or fear in his voice. “I mean, what better way to catch up than jump back into the thick of it? And we really could use the help.”

Their father nodded slightly. “I think I’d like that.”

Dean wasn’t sure it was the best plan, and the look on Bobby’s face said he wasn’t all that sure either but he smiled as he shut the trunk. “Good. I say we get on the road.”

“You boys go on ahead.” Bobby said. “I have a stash of books that might help with this. I’ll stop and pick them up. Meet you there.”

“I guess I’ll get back to my team.” Eliot said. “But I’m only a phone call away.”

Dean took his outstretched hand and pulled him into a hug. “Us too.” Sam hugged him once Dean let him go and Eliot turned to their father. 

“So…” John pulled him in to hug too. “Take care of yourself out there.”

“You too, old man.” Eliot said with a smirk. “I’ll swing by more often.”

“Yeah, we’re going to have a talk.” John said, clapping a hand to his shoulder. 

“Whatever you say, Dad.” Eliot shook his head and headed for the barn doors.

“Wait, did he just say Dad?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah.” Dean contributed as he headed for the driver’s side door of the Impala, keys in his hand. “Apparently we have siblings.”

“More than one?”

“I have two daughters too.” John said, following Dean to the car. “Mary’s gonna be pissed that I’m leaving, so you boys best just drop me off home to pack up and come back in an hour or so.”

“We need a different car too.” Dean said. “Much as it pains me, Bobby wasn’t wrong about that.”

Sam climbed in beside him as their father got in the back seat. Dean pulled out, leaving Bobby standing in the center of the devil’s trap, staring after them with his mouth wide open.

 

“Dick Roman?” Eliot asked, sliding into the booth beside Hardison. “Are you serious?”

“He’s exactly the kind of guy we go after.” Nate said, his eyes sliding past Eliot to check in with Sophie at the bar. 

“Don’t you think he’s a little out of our league?” Eliot asked, pushing his hair back. “I mean, he’s Dick Roman.”

“Which is why we aren’t going directly at him.” Hardison said, laying his tablet on the table in front of Eliot. “This is his second in command. He’s our target.”

Eliot squinted at the picture. Something about it didn’t sit right. “I don’t like it.”

“Don’t have to like it.” Nate said, watching Sophie leave the bar. “Keep an eye on Sophie. That’s your job for now. And put your damn earpiece in.”

Eliot huffed and stood, slipping the earpiece from his pocket and into his ear. “Better?” he asked as he stormed out. Sophie was nearly to the corner. 

“Better. Now, we can’t come at this one fast and loose. It’s a long, slow con. Sophie’s on point. She’s establishing her cover. We’re just support.”

He almost wished he was back dealing with his father and the two men he now knew as his brothers...and that was pretty damn fucked up. His first encounter with the Winchesters had been more than a year before when they had come barreling through a pick up location, guns out, yelling at him to move. 

What followed was...insanity and a fight he almost lost with a thing that had fucking fangs and tried to bite him...and when it was over, they were all pretty revved up and there had been booze before Eliot went back to his room alone, only to have Sam knock on his door a half hour later.

Eliot watched Sophie greet the doorman at an upscale apartment building. “Nate, she’s going into a building. Do I try to follow”

“Parker’s inside. You hang outside.”

“Got it.”

He bought a newspaper from a kid on the corner and found a spot where he could see the front door of the building without being too obvious, leaning against a lamppost and opening the paper.

“We’re working on a better solution for watching the apartment.” Nate said in his ear. “This is temporary.”

“It better be.” Eliot growled.

That first night with Sam had been intense. They never said a word, and the left the room a mess, the dresser was on its side, the night stand broken, the mattress torn. Eliot hadn’t been comfortable sitting for days. It had probably been the best night of sex he’d ever had with anyone, male or female.

So, when he’d happened across the boys again, it was only natural that he’d look forward to more. Of course, first he had to get past the fact that they were _clearly_ insane, with their talk of werewolves and ghosts. He’d been about to write them off when the damn werewolf attacked him, and once again, they had saved his life.

Sam had seemed different then, softer somehow, almost wounded and he didn’t seem to remember the first night he and Eliot had spent together. Dean was the aggressive one that night, responded to Eliot’s less than subtle flirting by shoving him into a wall and kissing him hard enough to bruise lips.

Sam had stared until Eliot pushed past Dean to push Sam backward onto the bed, riding him down as he claimed his mouth. Torn clothes and bruises led to grunts and groans and by the time the first light of morning was fighting its way under the curtains on the window, Eliot had fucked and been fucked by both men pretty thoroughly. 

He’d done his own research after that, discovered that all that crazy shit wasn’t as make believe as Eliot assumed. 

If he was honest with himself, he’d called Dean about the box because what he really wanted was another night of amazing sex. Which he’d never get again, now that they knew they shared a father. Which...was completely insane. He could accept ghosts and werewolves and whatever the fuck that first thing was, but demons and time travel and angels was a whole other ball of crazy.

And his father? The idea that he was ever a hunter like Sam and Dean seemed far fetched. All his life, John Spencer had been small town guy, hardware store guy, stay home and learn the family business guy. Eliot had been stifled by it.

He made a note to have Hardison run John Winchester’s name when they got some free time. He had a feeling there was a lot more to his father than Eliot ever knew.

 

The new office in Portland was different, with the restaurant cover and all of the customization Hardison was putting in, but they were getting used to it. Eliot dropped the suit jacket he was forced to wear for his new job as building security on the chair and untied his tie. “Another quiet day. Nate’s on for the next few hours playing the assistant..” 

The operation had moved when Sophie’s cover had been offered a job with one of Dick Roman’s companies. For a month they’d been working on getting her close enough to Roman to be able to work and they were no where near close.

“Parker’s getting food. You want to see what I found on that personal matter you asked me about?” Hardison asked, clicking his remote. 

His father’s face lit up the temporary screens. “Meet John Winchester, former marine, husband, father. His hobbies allegedly include grave desecration, credit card fraud, assault and assault with a deadly weapon, illegal possession of a firearm, eluding law enforcement and impersonating law enforcement.” He clicked the remote and a picture of John with a young boy and a woman holding a baby popped up. “This is his wife Mary and his two boys, Sam, the baby, and Dean. Now, Mary died in a suspicious fire just a few months after this picture was taken. John was never charged, though he was a person of interest for a while. After that, John and his boys moved around a lot.”

Eliot crossed his arms as Hardison threw up arrest reports and financial statements. “He falls off the grid a couple of times, then reappears. His two boys grew up to be a lot like him. There are accusations against them that mirror his, plus some murder charges. Near as I can tell, all three of them are dead. Or at the very least living under new identities.”

“What does that mean, as near as you can tell?”

Hardison shifted uncomfortably. “John here died in a hospital after the car he was in danced with a semi truck. Dean reportedly died in St. Louis, but resurfaced elsewhere. The FBI caught them and reported that they died in a helicopter crash. Then there’s this...” He clicked again and there were pictures of Sam and Dean with guns, and headlines about mass killings. “According to police reports, the brothers were shot dead by the police, autopsied and cremated.”

Eliot nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Thanks? That’s it?” Hardison asked incredulously, clicking back to the picture of John Winchester. “You gonna tell me what it’s about?”

“No. It’s personal.”

“That’s what you said. You think they’re alive?”

“Hardison, drop it.” The door opened and Parker came in with a tray of food from the restaurant. 

“Who’s he?”

Eliot snatched the remote out of Hardison’s hand and turned the screen off. “No one.”

“Oh, that’s funny. I saw a guy that looks just like him, just now. In the restaurant.”

Eliot frowned at her, and clicked the remote, bringing up the security cameras. Sure enough, there they sat, John, Dean and Sam, at a table near the window. Eliot dropped the remote and raced out through the kitchen, just as they were getting up. 

“Eliot?” Sam looked confused, then surprised.

Eliot grabbed his arm and dragged him out the door onto the sidewalk. “What the hell are you doing here?” Sam looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his face drawn and pale, the circles under his eyes dark.

“Nice to see you too, Son.” John said with a laugh. “Could ask you the same question.”

“I’m working.” Eliot answered.

“So are we.” Dean responded. “Got a case. People dying weird deaths.”

Eliot frowned at him. “I hadn’t heard anything. But, I’ve been busy.”

“Right. Working.” John said, squinting at him.

“Yeah, one of my team is infiltrating a dirty company.” He shook his head. “Are you telling me there are monsters in this town?”

“Cursed objects, at the very least.” Dean said. “We just hunted down the last of them.”

“That mean you’re leaving town?” 

They hesitated and Sam cleared his throat. “We aren’t sure it’s over just yet.” He rubbed his forehead and shook his head.

“Man, just go back to the hotel and get some sleep.” Dean said. “Dad and I got this.”

“I’m okay.” Sam argued. “And I won’t sleep anyway.”

“You look like shit.” Eliot said. 

Sam’s phone rang and he stepped aside to answer it. “Seriously, he looks bad.” Eliot said to Dean. “Is he okay?”

Dean shook his head. “No, I don’t think he is. He’s not sleeping, hasn’t since Bobby….” Dean shook his head. “Bobby died. Sam’s just gotten worse since, hallucinating, not sleeping...and when he does sleep...” He glanced at their father, but before he could say more, Sam was back with them.

“That was Scott, he says he looked into a mirror and wants to rip his face off.”

“Sam, Dean and I got this.” John said. 

“I’m coming with.” Sam said, already heading for the corner.

Eliot glanced at the restaurant, then Sam. He turned away. “Hardison, I have something I have to deal with. I’ll be back.” He pulled the earpiece out before Hardison could respond and tucked it into his pocket, jogging a little to catch up. “Where we going?”

John pointed down the street. “Second hand shop.”

“Why exactly?” Eliot asked.

“They were selling cursed objects after the owner’s mother passed away.” John explained. 

“Why do I get the feeling that’s only part of the story?” Eliot asked as Sam and Dean reached the door.”

“Because you’re not as dumb as you look.” Dean responded, peeking in the store. “Okay, you and Dad, hang back. We’re not sure what’s going on yet.”

Sam opened the door and he and Dean went into the store. John stuck his foot in to keep it from closing completely so they could hear what was happening.

“Did she just say she was going to _eat_ him?” Eliot asked. His father nodded. “I’m guessing that isn’t metaphoric.”

The talking disappeared under the sounds of fighting, and Eliot pulled his father out of the way, running straight into the store where Sam was grappling with a man and Dean was getting thrown by a woman who looked vaguely familiar. He grabbed at the woman first, jumping when her face changed and rows of teeth came at him. He punched her hard and rolled out of reach, crashing into a glass display case. 

Eliot grabbed at the sword in the case as Sam stuffed the head of the guy he was fighting into a bucket. He swung the sword as the woman closed in on Dean, taking her head off. Dean scrambled to his feet and grabbed the head while black goo oozed out of the open neck.

“That….isn’t normal.” Eliot said, stepping clear of the spilling goo.

“You’d be surprised what you can get used to as normal.” Dean replied, shoving the head into a bag. “Fucking Leviathans. 

Sam shoved the guy into a chair, his face smoking and bubbling. “One minute. That’s exactly how long you have to explain.”

“I am dying to know what that bitch tastes like.” He licked his lips, his eyes on the bag in Dean’s hand.

“Wait, let me get this straight. You want to eat your boss?” Dean said, tossing the bag to his father.

“You got a better way to make her stay dead?” the man asked, his eyes skimming over Eliot and John. “Who’re the day players?”

Sam snapped his fingers to pull the man’s attention back to him. “So, what? So now you're – you’re on our side or something?”

“Yeah. No. But if Joyce is alive, then I spend the rest of my life cleaning her messes. Or worse, I get eaten. Or bibbed. So, thanks... for chopping her head off for me. Taking her on solo – yikes. So, really, thanks for the assist there. So how 'bout that head?”

“Yeah, not gonna happen, Georgie.” Dean answered. Sam leveled the sword at the man’s throat and Dean crossed his arms, his face hard. “Now... what the hell is Dick Roman building in Wisconsin?”

Eliot felt his heart stop. “Did you say Dick Roman?” Eliot asked, his voice tight.

Dean turned to look at him. “Yeah, he’s one of these fuckers. Their leader. Why?”

Eliot shook his head, his fingers already pulling the earpiece out of his pocket. “Hardison, we need to get Sophie and Nate out. Now. Clean. Like they were never there. Do you understand me?”

“Eliot?” Dean was following him. “What are you talking about? Who are you talking to?”

Eliot held up a hand as he listened to Hardison telling him how hard they’d worked to establish this cover and Eliot growled. “Damnit Hardison, you listen to me and get them the fuck out. This is **not** a discussion.”

Dean was frowning at him. Eliot pulled the earpiece out. “My team...we take on corrupt business men, politicians, that kind of thing.”

“Don’t tell me you’re targeting Dick Roman.” Dean said.

“We’ve been working on getting our grifter inside the organization since before I left you in Kentucky.”

“Sam, clean up this mess. Dad, stick with Sam. I’m going to go with Eliot.”

Eliot set back toward the restaurant at a jog, Dean falling in beside him. He put the earpiece back in to hear Hardison cussing up a storm. “Nate is not going to like this.”

“Nate won’t like having his face eaten off even more, I’m guessing.” Eliot said as they entered the restaurant and took the stairs to the office. 

“What?” Hardison turned to look at him, startled by the sight of Dean with him. 

“You get Nate?” 

Hardison held out the cell they’d used to establish part of Sophie’s cover. Eliot took it and held it to his ear. “Mr. Anderson, I’m afraid there’s been an accident. We need Ms. Chapman to come immediately.”

He could hear the strain and anger in Nate’s voice. “Are you certain, she is quite busy this week.”

“The sooner the better.” Eliot said. “I can send someone to get you, if you need me to.”

“Very well. I will inform Ms. Chapman.”

“I will have a car there in ten minutes.” Eliot hung up and threw the phone at Hardison. “As soon as I have them, you start wiping everything, you hear me? There can be no trace of any of us on this. Anywhere.” He slapped Dean’s shoulder and gestured toward the back. “I’ve got a car for this.”

He could feel Hardison staring after them, but just kept going, glad he’d pulled the non descript, black sedan out of storage. “We use it when we’re posing as government...IRS, FBI...looks like your average government issue, but I worked on her myself. I’m betting she could blow the doors off of your Impala.”

“We may have to test that theory.” Dean said as they got in.

Eliot brought the car to life and they pulled out, heading toward downtown. “According to my source, Roman’s got his hands in everything.” Dean offered as they squealed around a corner. “This real estate thing isn’t new, he’s buying up property all over the country.”

“World.” Eliot corrected. “I’ve got a hacker too. Any idea why these monsters want all this land?”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t have a clue.”

Eliot slowed them down as they approached the building, pulling up in front and putting it in park to get out and open the door for Sophie and Nate. He glanced at the building, eyes sliding over the security cameras before he shut the door and got back behind the wheel.

“Who’s this?” Sophie asked as they started moving.

“Dean Winchester.” Eliot responded. “Dean, Nate and Sophie.”

“You going to explain this?” Nate asked.

“I got new information. It isn’t safe for you in there.” Eliot answered, taking a sharp left and checking the rearview mirror for signs that they were being followed.

“What new information?” Nate asked.

“Dick Roman is not a man you can take down by embarrassing him or stealing his money.” Dean said, his voice dark. “In fact, he’s not really a man at all. He’s a monster.”

“Which is why we are going after him.” Nate argued.

“Trust me, Nate.” Eliot said. “This is too big for us.”

“You know I’m going to need a better explanation.” Nate said.

Eliot glanced at Dean who nodded. “Yeah okay. Hardison, you and Parker meet us at the warehouse on 5th.”

Dean was already on the phone with Sam. “Bring him, and all the stuff. Once we’re done here we’ll find a hole to dump it down. Yeah, gimme a sec.” Dean looked at him.

“33256 5th Street.” Eliot offered. “Have them come down the alley and pull in the side door.”

“You get that?” Dean asked. “Okay, see you then.” He closed the phone and looked up at Eliot. “They’re just finishing up. Said to give them a few minutes.”

Eliot nodded and took them down another street. “I think we’re clear.”

“Maybe one more circle.” Dean suggested.

The car was quiet then as Eliot drove them around Portland until both he and Dean were satisfied they weren't being followed. He turned them down a wide alley and stopped between two old buildings. The building was old, but the door and the security system on it were new. Eliot got out and pressed in the code as Dean slid across the seat to drive the car in.

Hardison and Parker were already there as Eliot followed the car in. The door closed and Nate and Sophie were already out of the car. Eliot held up both hands to forestall the questions he could see on Nate’s face. “A few more minutes. You’ll understand.”

“He’s strung pretty tight.” Dean said quietly, moving in close to Eliot.

“He’ll be okay.” Of course, Eliot was only speculating. He had no idea how any of them would react to actual monsters...or any of the other revelations about to take place. Dean’s phone rang and he nodded to Eliot. 

He crossed to the door and opened it for the truck and the trailer it was hauling. Sam and their father got out of the truck, eyeing up the rest of the group. Eliot took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Okay, let’s start with introductions.” Hardison and Parker were staring, Nate and Sophie looked pissed. “Nate, Sophie, Hardison, Parker….this is my father, John, and my brothers Sam and Dean.”

There was a moment of silence, then all four of them started talking at once. Finally, Dean whistled loudly and cut them all off. 

“They’re your _family_ , Eliot?” Hardison asked, his voice squeaking. “You had me run background on your family?” He moved to Nate. “Those two are murderers. Supposed to be dead. All of them supposed to be dead.”

“We are not murderers.” Dean said, stepping forward, but careful to keep his hands clearly visible. “Those men were not us.”

“Sure looked like you.” Parker said.

“Okay, I’ll give you that. They did look like us. But they weren’t us.”

“Right. They were monsters.” Nate said, eyebrow raised, looking at Eliot.

“Okay, we’ll show you.” Eliot nodded to his father who went to the back of the trailer and opened it, pulling out the guy from the second hand shop, his hands and feet bound in heavy chains.

“George here is a Leviathan.” Sam said, moving in with what looked like a water gun. “You can tell one by the fact that they’re allergic to cleaning products.” He waved the gun and shot the guy in the face. Instantly his skin started to bubble. “And if you cut them, they bleed black goo.” He pulled a knife from his belt and cut into George’s arm.

Sophie turned away, her face in Nate’s shoulder, while Parker leaned in to see better. 

“They can take on anyone’s likeness. For example, this man he currently looks like. George probably ate him and took over his identity.” Sam said.

“And...we’re just supposed to take your word for this?” Nate asked.

Sam moved the blade to George’s throat. “Care to show them?”

George’s features shimmered, fluctuated...then resolved into an exact replica of John. “Okay, enough.” Sam said and George changed back.

Nate was still staring, but Parker seemed to be absorbing it all. “So you’re saying that Dick Roman is one of these Leviathan things?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what we’re saying.” Dean said. “We’re working on defeating them, but it is no fight for civilians.”

“I’m hungry.” George said, shifting in John’s hands. “I was promised a meal.”

“Yeah well, I lied.” Sam said, pulling a machete out of the truck and slicing George’s head off. Sophie screamed and Hardison jumped. Only Nate and Parker didn’t flinch. Sam pulled the head away, crossing back to the trailer. He shoved the head into the trailer and came back wiping his hands. 

“Was that necessary?” Nate asked.

“It didn’t kill him.” Dean said. “But yes, it was necessary. If we don’t keep the head and body separated, they eventually come back together and come after us again. So far we haven’t found a way to kill them.”

“Except when they eat each other.” Sam added, making a face. 

“Yeah, that.” Dean agreed. “But, since that isn’t an option, this is how we deal with it. Questions?”

“Where do they come from?” Parker asked, bending over to look at the headless body and the slowly spilling puddle of black goo.”

“Purgatory.” Sam said. 

“As in...Purgatory?” Hardison asked. “The place unbaptized babies go?”

“Not so much babies.” Dean corrected. “Monsters. We kill them here, they go there.”

“I thought you said you can’t kill them.” Sophie said, rejoining the conversation finally.

“Leviathans, no. Other monsters? Yeah, them we can kill.”

“Other monsters?” Nate asked. 

“Vampires, werewolves, ghouls.” John offered. “Yes, they’re all real. Yes, we hunt them and kill them.”

“And when they die here, they end up in Purgatory.” Dean finished. “Only, someone opened a gateway to Purgatory and let these asswipes out. Now, we have to find a way to send them all back where they came from.”

“What if you can’t?” Parker asked. “Send them back, I mean?”

“Then we keep chopping off heads and hiding them.” Dean responded. “So, now you know. Leave Dick Roman to us.”

 

Sam left his father and brothers talking to Nate and the others, withdrawing behind the truck. He was worrying them, and he knew it. Fact was, he was starting to worry himself. His head was a jumble of memory and hallucination, and there were moments he couldn’t tell them apart from reality...or if the hallucination was that he was here at all.

“How long has it been?” Eliot asked suddenly, appearing beside him. “Since you slept?”

Sam shook his head. “I got an hour or so this morning.”

“I got something that will make sure you sleep.”

Sam sighed. “It won’t help. I’ve tried everything. He won’t shut up.” He gestured at the hallucination as if Eliot could see him. “At least he stopped singing Highway to Hell.”

“I don’t pretend to know what’s going on in your head, Sam. But you need sleep.”

“Oh, I know I do. Trust me.”

“Then let me try to help you. I have a place not far from here.”

_”He can’t help you, Sammy. He’s a hallucination. He isn’t real.”_ Lucifer was leaning in whispering in his ear. 

“Go away.” Sam hissed at him, then looked up quick at Eliot. “Not you.”

_”You know what you need to do Sam.”_

“No.” Sam hissed at him, stepping away, closer to Eliot.

Eliot raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s it. I’m not taking no. Dean, I’m taking Sam someplace safe. Call me when you wrap this up.” 

Eliot took his elbow and escorted Sam toward the door of the car he and Dean had arrived in, Lucifer trailing behind. Sam started laughing as the hallucination started singing again.

_”You can’t ride in my little red wagon, front seat’s broken and the axle’s draggin’...”_

Eliot held Sam’s door like they were on a date. 

_”You’re twisted, Sammy. He’s your brother.”_

“Stop.” Sam said, squeezing his eyes shut as his mind filled with images of him and Eliot naked and sweating as they grappled and fucked. He grabbed at his head and tried to force himself to think about other things. 

“I don’t understand what you’re going through.” Eliot said. “Dean told me a little bit, but…”

Sam forced himself to look up, to see Eliot and the car. “He wants me to believe that this is the hallucination, that I’m still down there...I can feel him...them...the torture.” He swallowed. “Like it’s real….it was real, maybe he’s right, maybe I’m still in the cage and this is all some elaborate psychological escape I create for myself.”

“You always dream up second families and fucked up realities to escape your fucked up reality?” Eliot asked, his voice warm.

“What, you don’t?” Sam asked, laughing a little.

The memories were shifting, from Eliot and Dean and the weekend they’d spent to memories of being ripped apart, forced into smaller and smaller boxes, flames and sulfur

“Fuck. Fuck.” His body was seizing up. Memory slammed through him, alternating between torment and pleasure, until he wasn’t sure there was any difference. He could hear Eliot calling his name, felt the car swerve and come to a stop, then there were hands on his skin. 

“Hey, Sam. Come on.” Eliot pulled his face up and Sam blinked, trying to push the memory back. “Okay, I’m sorry.” At first Sam couldn’t figure out what he meant, then his fist slammed into Sam’s jaw and everything went dark.

 

“What the hell did you give him?” Dean asked, stalking the room.

“Relax, he’s fine.” Eliot answered, intercepting him before he could storm into the bedroom. “I’m monitoring him and he’s sleeping.”

“How long has he been out?” 

“Since I popped him to stop his freak out yesterday. Almost 24 hours. I took the IV out about an hour ago. He should wake up soon.”

“Dad’s already headed to the next job.” Dean sat on the couch, running a hand over his head. 

“He seems happier. You know, hunting.”

Dean smirked. “Yeah, he hasn’t lost a step either. He’s all gung ho. I almost can’t keep up.”

“Yeah, well, he’s had a thirty year vacation.”

“And I’ve been running for so long I don’t even remember….”

“Dean?”

Eliot turned as Dean stood and Sam squinted at them both sleepily, pulling a blanket around himself as if he was cold.

“Hey, Sam. How you feeling?”

Sam nodded. “Better, actually. A lot better. Little groggy.”

“That’s the drugs. It’ll wear off.” Eliot said.

“Dad?”

“He’s headed for Indiana. Caught a case. Figured he’d get the research started.”

Sam nodded. “If Eliot will give me my pants back, we can go.”

Eliot chuckled and grabbed the freshly cleaned jeans on the back of the chair and tossed them at Sam. “You want me to pack up some of the cocktail I gave you in case it gets that bad again?”

“Yeah, I haven’t slept that good in a long time.” Sam gestured back into the bedroom. “Gimme a minute.”

Eliot went to the small fridge and pulled out two vials, handing them to Dean. “Best done with an IV. Stick to the dosage on the labels. Do not deviate. He shouldn’t use it more than once a week.”

Dean nodded and pocketed the vials. “Got it.”

“You two got a plan?” Eliot asked.

“Yeah, figure out how to kill the bastards or send them back to purgatory. You?”

“Nate’s already got another client. We leave in the morning.”

Sam emerged from the bedroom. “So, back to normal?”

“As normal as it gets for us, I guess.” Dean said. “You ready?”

Sam nodded. “Eliot, thank you.”

“No need. Just watch each other’s backs. And the old man’s.”

“And you watch yours. Call us if you find anything that’s more our thing than yours.”

Eliot walked them to the door. “I will.”

He watched them go, crossing to the window to watch them get into a car. It felt wrong letting them drive away knowing that they were off to fight demons and monsters. It made what he did seem so trivial.

 

“You okay?” Dean asked as they drove away.

Sam inhaled and nodded. “Yeah, I think so. No nightmares, no Lucifer.”

“That’s good. Look, I haven’t said anything, but you should know Crowley hasn’t given up looking for the box. Dad thinks the heart belongs to Lucifer’s first human vessel.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably. “Look, Dean...I need to tell you something.”

“I’m listening.” Dean prodded when he was quiet for too long.

“The...hallucination, Lucifer...he wants me to…” Sam cleared his throat. “He keeps telling me I need to...eat it.”

“What?” Dean asked, looking at him like he had grown another head. “You can’t.”

“I know that. I don’t….he says it’s the only way to keep it away from Crowley.”

“Sam, he’s not real.”

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know that. I’m just telling you because….hell, I don’t know. I figured you should know.”

“I’m glad you said something.” Dean said softly after the silence had grown again. “Look, I know it all seems a little...overwhelming right now. But we’re going to get through this. We always do.”

Sam wasn’t so sure, but he kept his doubts to himself. For the moment the drug-enforced sleep had him fairly clear headed, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the memories and delusions were back, before the sleep deprivation would drive him a little further down the path to insanity.

At least Dean would have their father now when it happened. And Eliot too, he supposed. Family. It had been just him and Dean for so long. Maybe, when it was over, Dean could have something like normal.

Maybe.


End file.
